Soup Kitchen Christmas
by CinderellaAtTheBall
Summary: Hermione and Fred volunteer at a food kitchen on Christmas. Fremione fluff for Trish - belated happy holidays!


_Written for Trish (starspangledpumpkin), who requested a non-traditional holiday celebration (such as spending it at a soup kitchen) and fluff/romance. There's also a bit of "A is anxious, B is fun" thrown in, I hope. I'm sorry this is so late, Trish, but I hope you enjoy! _

_Note: I might change the title at some point but for now, this is what it is._

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**Soup Kitchen Christmas **

Volunteering at a soup kitchen on Christmas had been Fred's idea. Hermione hadn't been surprised — her boyfriend had a big heart and loved to make people happy, after all. But what was surprising was that after confirming their roles and responsibilities with the soup kitchen director, Mrs. Chilton, she realized that Fred had slipped away.

Actually, that wasn't so surprising either. Still, Hermione couldn't help but worry a little. Fred had a tendency to attract trouble like some kind of magnet, and she wouldn't put it past him to pull a prank _"in the spirit of Christmas, Hermione."_

She sighed and went off to find the elusive redhead. Her ears picked up a faint sound of laughter, and she walked quickly toward it, her brow furrowed.

Walking through a doorway, her eyes immediately fell on the young man with scarlet hair who sat amongst a small group of children. They all seemed to be giggling at something Fred had just said or done.

"Oh, what's this?" Fred exclaimed. He reached behind the ear of a girl with short blonde hair. She couldn't have been more than five, and looked positively dazzled when Fred presented her with a pink flower pulled from thin air. "For you, milady."

Hermione cleared her throat, and several pairs of eyes snapped over to where she stood. "Fred? We're supposed to be on the serving line..."

Fred grinned, a gesture that made his eyes light up and Hermione's heart stutter. "I'll be right there, love. Let me just..." He made a show of reaching into the pocket of his jacket, moving his hand around as though searching for something he had lost. Finally, he pulled out several Christmas crackers. "Aha! Who wants to pull a cracker?"

The children began to clap and shout excitedly. Fred gave each one a cracker and instructed them on how to open it with a partner before crossing to Hermione.

"Figured they needed a little Christmas cheer," he said with a shrug. He was watching the group with a sort of quiet fondness that Hermione often saw when he looked at her.

She wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug before tugging gently at his hand. "Come on, we should get back before Mrs. Chilton thinks we've abandoned our promise to help."

...

Hermione was in charge of serving the shepherd's pie; Fred was tasked with serving the tomato soup. Several other volunteers stood between them, so there wasn't much chance for them to talk. However, Hermione could hear Fred chattering away to anyone and everyone that went through the line, cracking jokes or complimenting them — anything, it seemed, to bring out a smile. His efforts put a smile on her own face, and she found herself grinning happily as she transferred pie to plates.

"You have a beautiful smile," an old woman told her.

"Oh, thank you, that's very kind," Hermione replied, cutting another slice of pot pie with careful exactness.

The old woman reached out and placed a bony hand on Hermione's arm. "Don't lose that smile, dear."

Fred had apparently overheard the exchange, for he called, "I reckon she won't as long as I'm around, ma'am."

Hermione was thankful that her dark skin hid her blush. "Fred!"

"Ah, to be young and in love again," the old woman laughed. A few minutes later, when she had moved down to where Fred stood, she leaned in and whispered something to him. Fred listened, his face neutral, then nodded.

"Thank you," Hermione heard him say. Her curiosity piqued, she filed that moment away to ask him about later.

...

The flat was cold by the time they returned to it late that night. Christmas dinner at the Burrow had gone on for hours, though there was nothing unusual about that. Weasley family gatherings tended to last a long time, what with needing to catch up with everyone and recover from Molly's cooking.

Hermione sank onto the bed, shivering slightly in spite of the warm pajamas she had changed into.

"Blimey, my arm hurts," Fred said, massaging it.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "From serving soup?"

"And here I thought you might offer to kiss it and make it better," Fred pouted.

Hermione laughed and patted the covers. "Come here, then." Fred plopped down beside her and held out his arm. She leaned over and brushed her lips against his pale skin. "Better?"

"Much," he answered, tilting her head up and pressing his lips to hers. Suddenly, he pulled away, frowning. "Are you cold?"

Hermione nodded and pulled the covers up around her. Fred snuggled up beside her. "Better?" he asked.

"Much," she echoed, smiling contentedly. Then she thought of the old woman speaking to him, and remembered that she had not asked him about it. "What did that woman say to you today?"

"What woman?" Fred asked, his voice languid with sleepiness.

"The one from the soup kitchen," Hermione elaborated. "The one who told me I have a nice smile."

"You _do_ have a nice smile," he murmured. The weight of his head on her shoulder was reassuring.

"But she said something to you," Hermione persisted. "You...you thanked her for it, whatever it was."

Fred sat up and looked at her with an unusually somber expression. "So I did."

"Well, what did she say?" She tried not to sound too impatient, but she was beginning to feel as though Fred was purposefully being obtuse. However, his next words eased her irritation.

"She said that she hoped I would be graced with your smile every day for the rest of my life."

Hermione found that she had been holding her breath, and let it out all at once. "Really?"

"Really," her boyfriend confirmed. "And you know, I really hope that too. Nothing would make me happier."

She gasped. "Fred, if this is your idea of a proposal..."

"It's not," he said, grinning cheekily. "But we should certainly discuss it sometime, hmm?"

Hermione nodded and kissed him again. "I would definitely be open to that."

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Word count: 1,005


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